


Spar

by Basched



Series: Past Present Future [1]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Awkwardness, Humour, M/M, Pre-Slash, playful fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basched/pseuds/Basched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little scrap in the gym becomes the start of something new...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spar

**Author's Note:**

> The first fic in my Past/Present/Future series. This is the very first piece that should be read. It comes before "Getting Closer"

Events for the ARC and its agents were unusually quiet. Anomalies were staying dormant, or rather no new ones were propping up despite last week’s sudden multitude of them, and this allowed the scientists and techs to continue with their paperwork and unfinished projects.

 

Matthew Anderson had a lot to catch up on himself, but as he sat at his desk trying to read Connor’s jargonized babble about some new project, nothing was sinking in. The afternoon was dragging and every time he looked at the clock on the wall, it felt as if it was getting slower. Matt looked at his beeper and his phone, hoping, wishing that someone would call him away on a mission regarding the anomalies. He longed for the alarms to go off but there was nothing.

 

There was just Connor’s report, which was now making his eyes blur and the little doodles and diagrams Temple had added to it were far from helpful. He was frustrated, bored and very restless. Matt needed to do something other than sit on his chair all day.

 

He needed to take a break.

 

So, Matt got to his feet and stormed out of his office, heading for the one place in ARC which could help him to unwind and regain his focus. On the way he stopped off in the locker rooms and changed into more suitable attire, a sleeveless grey tee, matching jogging bottoms and trainers. He was ready for a workout, to vent some of the unused energy inside him, however when he walked through the doors of the gym (nice of the government to make sure this facility had one for its personnel) someone else had come up with the same idea.

 

Captain Becker, not surprisingly dressed in black, was honing his hand to hand skills against a punch bag in the centre of a crash mat. He had been here for a while as his hair, face and shirt were dampened with sweat. His skin was flushed with traces of red and each time a foot or fist impacted with the bag, a forceful grunt heaved from his mouth. The punch bag was taking a huge buffering and its attacker, quick and light on his feet, was giving no quarter.

 

Matt observed every move Becker made, impressed with the strength behind his swings and kicks and astounded when one spinning kick—accompanied by a deep bellow--ripped the bag away from the mat and sent it bouncing on the floor.

 

“Did the punch bag do something wrong?” asked Matt approaching the bag and seeing the damage the Captain had done to it. He jabbed a foot at the padding sticking out from the seams.

 

“It didn’t fight back.” Becker replied, shucking off his t-shirt and walking over to where his bag and water bottle sat by the wall. He drank thirstily of the water and then casually used a towel to wipe at the sweat running over his torso. “Punch bags aren’t much of a challenge.”

 

“Are you looking for one?” asked Matt, as he dumped his own bag next to Becker’s. The Englishman huffed heavily and his face creased in a moment’s contemplation before he bobbed his head for the affirmative. They walked on to the crash mat again and faced each other in the centre.

 

“Sure you’re up for this?” Matt asked as he performed a few warm up exercises for his muscles.

 

The fist lashed out, it swung with such speed that Matt barely had time to jerk his head back to avoid being hit. Instinct kicked in, his arm rose to block Becker’s second fist and he struck out with a punch of his own. The captain blocked the retaliation easily and shoved him back.

 

“Does that answer your question?” Becker smirked triumphantly.

 

“Yeah, yeah.” Matt chuckled. “So you’re tellin’ me y’ not the slightest bit tired from the workout? Y’don’t need a moment to get your breath back?”

 

The two men circled one another, each carefully watching for signs of attack whilst looking for the opportunity to do so themselves. Matt could, on occasion, predict Becker’s “battle” tactics—he’d seen him in action against the creatures enough times—but there was something different with this situation. The banter he’d always expected and enjoyed was different. It felt dangerous.  
Thrilling.

 

“Nah. I’m fine.” Becker smirked back and held out his arms with intent to egg on the fight. “Not the least bit tired. I could do it all day!”

 

“The old wound not causing you trouble then?” Matt tapped at his leg as his eyes caught sight of the older scars on Becker’s back and chest, especially those few injuries which clearly could have killed him.

 

“I’ve had worse.” He replied, patting his hands against his chest. “I’ll survive.”

 

“Sure I can’t convince you to sit down…take a few moments? Y’look pretty worn, y’might pass out.”

 

“You couldn’t make me.”

 

“Oh really?”

 

At the same time both men struck out. What followed was a fast blurring display of limbs and a flurry of manoeuvres which taxed them to their limits. Their punches, when they did connect, impacted with half strength. The men would allow some cuts and bruises in the attempt to deflate the other’s macho ego, but both knew that they could, with a well-timed strike, kill. This was a release for the boredom and pent up energy, it was to work up a sweat and was supposed to be a bit of laugh, not a duel to the death.

 

“Are we hitting faces?” Becker side-stepped one of Matt’s punches as it nearly caught his jaw and he cracked a sneaky hit to his boss’ shoulder. Matt spun round sharply and repaid in kind an elbow jolt into Becker’s abdomen. Becker cursed at himself for allowing it to happen and gripped his hand where the blow had connected.

 

“Worried I might upset those good looks o’yours, Becker?” Matt gently shoved Becker back. When the younger man caught his breath they began to circle each other. He couldn’t help but smile at the captain’s mild expression of frustration.

 

“I’ve got some new recruits for my team to meet later.” Becker feigned a couple of jabs and nearly succeeded in making contact with Matt’s ribs, but he was a little too slow. A string of colourful metaphors uttered from under his breath.

 

“Ah!” Matt missed a few swings himself as Becker dodged and weaved like a boxer. “Y’want to make a good impression for your men.”

 

“As does any good C.O, of course.” Becker tried for a second time, to upset the Irishman’s balance, but he was prevented from doing so. He had to deflect Matt’s retaliation, whose amused smirk had now spread out into a grin.

 

This was all too easy.

 

“So tell me,” The jovial mirth in Matt’s voice was barely under control. “How are your new men goin’ to react, when I’ve rendered you unconscious by kickin’ y’arse?”

 

There was a choking gasp. Becker’s mouth dropped open in shock before he realised it for the provoking fighting talk Matt intended. He grinned and slicked back his drenched hair with a casual sweep of his hand.

 

“You couldn’t kick a football.”

 

“If it’s shaped like y’arse Becker…yeah I could!”

 

Matt laughed and wiped his arm across his face and neck, ridding the sweat he had produced with a shake. His t-shirt was soaked so he shucked it off as quickly as possible, dodging the expected assault from Becker’s right fist, before throwing the damp shirt to the side.

 

It was after a few more bouts and near misses when Matt saw the curious rise of Becker’s eyebrow and the widening of his eyes. He was looking at Matt’s own collection of scars, staring at the pale marks barely visible across pale sweating skin. Most people didn’t usually notice them, nor did Matt have the habit of wondering around with his shirt off, but Becker could see the criss crosses of claw marks and there must have been a hundred and one questions going through the Captain’s mind. At that moment, during the brief pause in their fight, Becker wanted to ask what happened, a wave of sympathy and understanding washed over his flustered face but Matt couldn’t answer.

 

No one was supposed to know who he was…he had promised his father he wouldn’t get close to anyone, but that in itself wasn’t easy with the dedication, friendship and loyalty the ARC team he lead showed. It wasn’t any easier as Becker was now staring at him with a peculiar—but not unpleasant—gaze of dangerous and exciting intent.

 

Matt blinked. Gone was the compassionate comprehension and empathy over the sight of his past injuries, now there was a wicked deviousness smouldering behind those dark brown eyes.

 

“You’re so going to get it.” Becker growled and leered fiendishly, his tongue running over his lips as he did so.

 

“Oh damn it.”

 

It took only but a second for Matt to feel the impact of a heavy rugby tackle against his body followed by his feet being whipped out from underneath him. His back impacted on the cushioned crash mat with a thud and if he hadn’t rolled to the side and raised his arms, Becker’s foot surely would have stomped down on his mid-section. Matt clasped his fingers around the thick sole of the boot and with a surge of strength he pushed up and toppled Becker over. There was an equal hefty whack as Becker landed next to him-- _“shit!”_ \--though at the exact same moment Matt flipped onto his feet, Becker did the same.

 

Matt felt his face aching from the wide grin this fight produced and if it were possible, it widened even more seeing the same excited expression on Becker’s face. Matt immediately went on the offensive and whipped out his leg to kick Becker’s knee.

 

If their sparing was fast before, it was nothing compared to the speed at which they fought now. Whilst their actions were not as graceful, the men packed force behind their tussling until it became less like a martial arts display and more of a wrestling match. It was evenly matched after some time elapsed and despite the fact that Becker had been doing a previous work out, but it was certainly more physical. The banter finally stopped, replaced by deep guttural grunts, heavy breathing, the sounds of their punches connecting with wet skin and of their soles of their footwear squeaking on the mat.

 

They were tiring. Matt could feel all the energy he had stored up, draining and he became sloppy. Before he knew it, Becker had somehow managed to get him in a full body lock and the easiest way out of it would have been to use his weight and flip him over his shoulder, but Matt couldn’t manage it. Instead Becker kicked Matt’s feet out from underneath him and sent him falling. As he fell, Matt could feel the Captain’s arms loosening to let him drop, but in that second he grabbed hard on Becker’s arm and dragged him down with him.

 

They hit the ground hard, Matt taking Becker’s weight as well, which knocked the air from his lungs. He gasped and coughed, the burning in his chest aching so much his eyes watered. Becker immediately slipped off of him and Matt felt a hot burning hand touch between his shoulder blades.

 

“Are you all right?” came a breathless but concerned voice.

 

“Yeah…” Matt coughed several times. “I’m fine…just gimme a sec…”

 

Becker’s hand lifted off and strangely, Matt felt eerily cold. As he regained his breath, he could still sense the other man directly behind him. He was close enough just to make one last move.

 

Becker should never have let go.

 

Matt bolted up, using his torso to hit into Becker and elbow him in the chest. It caught the soldier off guard but not enough as his arms locked around Matt again and dragged them into a roll across the floor.

 

Matt had to grin even though his opponent’s grip around his stomach squeezed and they rolled again, kicking and scrambling like teenagers scrapping in a school playground. It was disorientating but when Matt had his face squashed into the cushioned floor, with Becker’s body interlocked with his, he really couldn’t stop smiling. He felt Becker’s frustration, the pounding of his heart throbbed against his back and his angry breath panted in his ear.

 

It was with immense difficulty that Matt managed to heave himself up onto his knees, lifting Becker up.

 

“Do you submit?” Becker hissed, using his legs to keep Matt still.

 

“You really want me to?” Matt angled his head and their faces were so close together their eyes locked. A grunt, deep and hot on his face was his only response. Becker had to win, he had to be the best because how else could you defend and keep your teammates safe if you were anything less?

 

The rapid and deep breathing of the man on top of him wasn’t calming down. Matt felt the burning through Becker’s skin, he felt the tension in his legs and arms as he still kept a vice like grip pinning Matt’s arms to his sides. He had to concede or else he didn’t think Becker was going to let him go.

 

“I submit.”

 

The relief was evident. Becker released a huge sigh, his muscled torso heaved against Matt and the grip finally set his arms free. He nearly fell back onto the floor again but Matt managed to steady himself with his hands. It was then that something else became rather evident.

 

“Er…” He didn’t make a move. Matt closed his eyes briefly, the feeling of Becker’s body pressed against him, his sweat dripping and slipping over his bare back, Matt couldn’t ignore the sensation stirring below. Nor could he ignore Becker’s own sudden reaction.

 

“So! This is a new--oh my god!”

 

“Shit!” Becker cussed as both of them looked to the door.

 

Matt planted a false smile on his face. “Okay. This is awkward”

 

Jess stood at the double doors of gym, her hand covering her mouth. She was in complete and utter shock and so too were the five young soldiers behind her, as they stared at the two half naked men in such a compromising position.

 

“Becker!” Jess’s face had gone bright red and she actually had to turn away and face the sniggering soldiers. “I was just giving your new recruits the tour of the facility…I…”

 

The captain shot to his feet and turned away, rushing over to the wall to grab his towel. Matt sank down on to his backside, crossing his legs in an attempt to hide his arousal. This was beyond embarrassing.

 

Jess then cleared her throat and, still with her back turned, held out a hand towards the two men.

 

“Lads, this is Captain Becker…your C.O,” Her voice stammered in the introductions. “And that's the ARC’s field leader Matt Anderson.”

 

Matt rose a hand in greeting but said nothing to the amused looking soldiers. Becker finally turned round to face his men, holding the towel conveniently across his groin. He was hugely embarrassed, though he tried to—and failed— hide it as he addressed his men.

 

“Gentlemen…” He wiped a hand across his face. “Welcome. Continue with your tour and I will be ready to debrief you once it’s finished.”

 

“Sir?” One brave soldier spoke up,clearly wanting an explanation and failing to prevent his sniggering. “What was going on? Got a bit tangled up?”

 

Becker scowled and his voice deepened with anger and authority that startled everyone. Except Matt, who had to hide his grin behind his hand.

 

“We were training. And you…soldier, will remember who you’re addressing in the future, because if you speak to me like that again…or if any of you do…be assured that your assignment for the rest of your duration here will be to muck out the Mammoth enclosure with a trowel! Do I make myself clear?!”

 

“Yes sir!” The soldiers chorused and saluted. They stood to attention, this wasn’t funny anymore.

 

“Glad we’re all understanding. Dismissed!”

 

The squad saluted again and all of the young men ran out of the gym. Becker’s anger calmed somewhat when the sound of their clomping boots in the corridor outside eventually faded. Dealing with his subordinates was easy enough, it paid to be the Captain, but Jess was another matter. She had turned round and her hand still covered her lips.

 

“Sorry about that…we were…” Becker’s face creased with confused frustration when Jess suddenly started to laugh. “What’s so funny?”

 

“Awkward much?” she giggled, folding her arms across her chest. “That was not the best way for them to meet their new bosses was it?”

 

Becker sighed and shook his head. “We were sparring. It’s what people use the gym for. It was…bad timing, that’s all.”

 

“Oh I know that! It’s just that it’s a first impression those guys are not going to forget!” She giggled again and then flapped her hand at her face, wafting some air over her flushed cheeks. “I certainly won’t be forgetting it! It’s nice you guys can get along so well.”

 

“Jess…we were…”

 

“Yeah! It’s all right! You don’t need to explain yourself to me! Anyway, I’ll catch up with the two of you later, I’ve got to meet Abby and Connor about…about a thing.”

 

“Jess!” The threatening tone of warning in Becker’s voice didn’t perturb Jess at all. She looked longingly over both men for a moment, before waving frantically and running out,laughing.

 

“Great. Just…bloody great.”

 

Becker paced up and down a little before finally crossing over to Matt. He grabbed Anderson’s hand and hauled him up with brute force. Once Matt steadied himself, he looked to the Captain who quickly offered him some water. He drank some, though he couldn’t stop looking at the younger man…who was now quite tentative and nervous.

 

“You think that little speech convinced them?” Matt asked, handing the water back to him. Becker didn’t answer, his eyes flitted to the ground and he shifted nervously on his feet as he took some sips of the water as well. He shook his head. “Look, I…”

 

“It’s all right.” Becker held his hand up to stop him and at last he met Matt’s gaze. He managed a small smile. “Thanks for the workout, but I’d better… I’m going to leave now.”

 

“Sure.”

 

The Captain walked back to his bag and picked it up before striding quickly to the exit. As Matt picked up his own shirt and belongings, he tried not to think any more on what had occurred. He had never reacted like that to a man before, but that tussle—Becker--had made it happen.

 

“Matt?”

 

His head jerked round so quickly it caused a sharp twinge in his neck. The shot of pain was quickly ignored when he saw Becker standing paused in the open doorway. The Englishman’s head was bowed and his shoulders slumped slightly.

 

“Yeah?”

 

There was a long uneasy pause.

 

“You…you want to spar again…sometime?”

 

Matt couldn’t help but smile. He watched as the younger man turned to face him, a curious and almost hopeful glaze in his eyes.

 

“Yeah. Though let’s make sure Jess doesn’t conduct any more tours again, okay?”

 

Becker nodded his head and allowed a soft amused chuckle to escape before walking out of the gym and leaving Matt on his own.

 

So much for not getting close.


End file.
